


Almond Flour

by basketofnovas (slashmarks)



Series: New Tenancy [2]
Category: The Golem and the Jinni - Helene Wecker
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmarks/pseuds/basketofnovas
Summary: Chava brings home leftovers.





	Almond Flour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opalmatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/gifts).



"You said that you're a widow?" the landlady said. Elizabeth said. She wanted to be called Elizabeth.

The Golem had come to see her in the kitchen. Everyone at the bakery took home bags of leftovers at the end of the day, since they wouldn't be fresh enough to sell the next. She usually gave them away in the street. But it had occurred to her that this might be a gesture appreciated by her fellow lodgers.

She wasn't sure what to think of them so far. They didn't mind that she kept her lights burning all night; but they  _talked_ so much.  They talked to her and they expected her to respond.  She hadn't expected that. She had thought they would be like the last boardinghouse.

"Yes," the Golem said. "Twice." She put the bag on the counter. "I brought this home from work. I thought that you... That the boardinghouse might appreciate it."

"So we will." Elizabeth gave her a long look.

Belatedly, the Golem realized that she should have sounded less impassive about her widowhood; should have done something with her face or voice to show she was grieved by it. It was rare that she made so many mistakes, but there had been so many new people lately that she felt unsteady, unpracticed.

"Arranged, I suppose?" Elizabeth said, opening the bag. "--Oh, they'll thank you for that," she said, taking pastries from the bag. "Are you sure you don't want any?"

They had had macaroons left over, a rarity, and Mrs. Radzin had pressed them on the Golem out of habit. Michael had liked them, so she usually had claimed them at the end of the day. Thinking of Michael again, unexpectedly, suddenly exhausted her. She had felt more for him since he died, it sometimes seemed, than she ever had when he was alive and living with her. She wondered when she would be done feeling for and about Michael.

"My husband's favorites," she whispered, realizing Elizabeth had asked a question and she might solve two problems in one answering it - her lack of a desire to eat any, and her lack of grief at her widowhood. "They're used to giving them to me..."

"Ah. Don't worry, I'll get these out of your way." Elizabeth closed the bag again. "And the entire house will be singing your praises for, oh, a week or so. It was recent?"

"Yes." She smiled, awkwardly. "My first marriage was arranged. My second - wasn't. Excuse me," she said, backing out of the kitchen.

Awkwardness, for many humans, could be a sign of grief. That was convenient, in a way.

The Golem received so many thanks for the macaroons that she began to wonder if it had been too conspicuous. But she gave the next bag of leftovers to Elizabeth anyway; and once she saw where Elizabeth put them, she began to leave bags in the front room where everyone would see them coming in.

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Exterior of the Union Square Theater [at the NYPL digital collections](https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47d9-b91e-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99)


End file.
